


Yetis and Kumquats

by tjs_whatnot



Category: Miranda (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 09:16:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13831119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tjs_whatnot/pseuds/tjs_whatnot
Summary: Miranda worried that she wasn't experienced enough for Gary, but then they accidentally discovered something new to try in the bedroom...





	Yetis and Kumquats

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Coookiegirl from way back in January's Snowflake Challenge.

Miranda used to worry about Gary’s sex life. Well, their sex life. She loved it, couldn’t get enough of it. But, she was new to even _saying_ sex, let alone having it. Everything for her was the first, was titaliting and life altering. For Gary though, he didn’t talk about it, didn’t complain or even give the appearance that he wanted more. But still…she worried. 

She would try to be more adventurous, but she didn’t know where to start. Until one night--middle of the afternoon really--they found a new adventure completely by accident. She found something she quite enjoyed. She could tell by the way his eyes danced, Gary enjoyed it as well.

They were in the kitchen. Gary was dancing around her to get to the places he needed to be while she tried--and failed--to stay out of his way. The only part of their flat he hated was the size of the kitchen, but it wasn’t a real complaint. They couldn’t find a flat more perfectly located to both their places of business for one thing, for another, it wasn’t like he didn’t have all the kitchen he needed just down stairs at the restaurant. It was his day off though, and as owner, those were rare. That they both had the day off with no demands on them was even rarer.

So, with a wooden spoon as a microphone in one hand and a pair of tongs in the other for cymbals, she started singing “Pass the Dutchie” because Gary had used the words “Pass the…” and she was unable to stop herself. Gary had a silicone spatula in his hand and was trying to get to the crepe pan without sending his air-banding wife into the sink, when he slipped. The *whack* of the spatula slapping hard against Miranda’s bum was almost earsplitting, so was her deep intake of breath.

Their shared look could have been in slow motion for how long it lasted, how many thoughts were exchanged unspoken. The slow progression from shock, to sting to a burning not in her bum at all, but somewhere in the pit of her. For Gary it was horror, to remorse to dawning understanding and excitement.

“Really?” Gary asked.

Miranda just nodded, eyes dancing, too afraid to open her mouth and ruin the moment. Instead, she just turned around and bent over a bit to display her arse for him to smack again.

“Here? Now?” he asked.

She gave him a nervous giggle and tried very hard to sound like a petulant child. “I’ve been very bad. Look, I’ve caused you to burn your crepes.”

“Ah!” Gary stepped away from Miranda and grabbed a towel, grabbed the smoking pan and tossed it into the sink to douse it before the smoke alarm went off… again.

He turned to her looking cross. She smiled sheepishly, not sure what he was going to do.

He continued to look cross as he stalked over to her slowly. She swallowed. He almost made it all the way to where she was, before he could no longer hold his expression, couldn’t school his eyes from dancing with glee. He grabbed her hand and rushed them to the bedroom. 

A moment later he ran back out and retrieved the spatula.

<<<

“Have you ever…?” Miranda started, not sure if she wanted to know if this was yet again one of those things that Gary had done loads of times before.

He shook his head. “Never.” He sounded almost scared.

“How should we….?” 

“Proceed?” Gary filled in, used to her inability to articulate their sex lives.

She nodded.

“Well, we should have a safe-word.”

“A safe-word?” Miranda asked, then clapped enthusiastically, doing a little dance. Her? With a safe-word? Like a proper deviant? She could barely contain her excitement. But then she got overwhelmed with the options. She knew that her parents’ safe-word was “Cumberbatch” but only because her mother liked to think of him while having adventurous sexy times with her father… and yes, she was horrified that she knew this. 

Miranda though, didn’t want to think about anyone else while she was with Gary. He smiled at her while she searched her mind for a word that she could use that wouldn’t distract her. 

“Kumquat?” she wrinkled her nose. Too naughty sounding. She felt dirty just saying it.

“Pumpernickel?” It was a fun word, but it might be hard to get out in a moment of panic.

Sasquatch!” she shouted. “Oh, I quite like that one. Not too _sexual_ ,” she whispered through her teeth.”Fun to say, but not too fun as to be distract--Sassssquatch. Sassqaaaaautch.”

“How about Yeti?” Gary suggested.

“Yeti,” she tested then beamed. “Yes, perfect.”

Feeling so accomplished, she’d almost forgot what they were doing, until Gary held up the spatula. She swallowed hard, biting her lip and waiting for him to direct her where he wanted her. 

“Come here,” he said in his husky bedroom voice, reaching his hand to her.

She went to him, took his hand. He tugged her slightly and she fell onto the bed.

She held her breath as Gary pulled down her trousers and panties. He ran his hand lightly over the spot that was red and still throbbing.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” he whispered.

She turned her head to look at him. “I’m not.”

Now he was the one to bite his lip. “You really liked it?”

She nodded. “I really think I did. But, I’d like to try it again, just to be sure.”

“Are you sure?” Gary asked.

“Yes!” she answered, wiggling her bottom.

He took a deep breath and raised his hand with the spatula in it. He paused.

He giggled nervously. “I’m scared.”

She smiled. “Me too. Exciting, isn’t it?”

“It really is.”

He took another deep breath while she held hers, preparing herself.

Knowing it was coming did nothing to lessen the reaction from either of them. The anticipation might have even heightened it. Again there was shock when the CRACK sounded, and again there was fear and trepidation and again there was an ache in the pit of her when the sting resided. Again she’d never felt more alive.

“Again!” she ordered.

This time he didn’t need to be told twice. Each time he spanked her, she shouted “Again!” until her entire arse was apple red and they were both panting.

Finally, Gary tossed the spatula aside and just sat and looked at her bum, as if marveling at what he had done, what she had allowed him to do. He laid his hand to the reddened skin. It was hot to the touch. He bent down and blew on it, like we would to a pot boiling over. She shivered.

Looking at her through his lashes, he swiped his tongue along the hot skin next. oaned and reached for him. She turned and gasped against the new sting of skin against fabric. “That’s going to sting for a while.”

Gary looked sheepish again. “I’m--”

“Don’t! I wanted it. I loved it. Didn’t you?”

He nodded slowly. “Very much so.”

They kissed, he laid beside her and she turned to face him and relieve her backside of the friction of the bed.

Their lovemaking was tender and slow, but every movement, every thrust sent sensations through Miranda that had her moaning, clutching, gasping and begging for more.

<<<

The next day, when she was red-faced and excitingly telling Stevie about the _shenanigans_ of the night before, Stevie nodded knowingly. 

“Of course you would like that. You’ve been begging for it your whole life.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, with your antics as a child? With the way you behave as an adult? Don’t you think you’ve been maybe doing all of that because you really wanted to be spanked?”

“What? No!” Miranda pushed Stevie off the stool she was sitting on. “That’s ridiculous.” 

And yet she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Was it a punishment? Did she like it for that reason? Had she wanted her parents to _spank_ her? Would she be able to enjoy this again _without_ thinking of her mother? And most importantly, had Stevie ruined the one new and exciting thing she brought to the marital bed? And if so, how would she punish Stevie?

The next night he brought the spatula to the bedroom, she braced herself, both for the stinging slap and also for the unwanted, uninvited thoughts. And as he raised his hand, and they both held their breaths, her mind cleared. As the smack echoed, and her bum reddened, and her breath came out in a gasp and a plead escaped her lips, “Again!” she had never been more focused, more in the moment in her entire life. There was no Stevie or mum, no restaurant or joke shop, no Yetis or Kumquats, there was only her, and Gary and the world disappeared.

It wasn’t like a punishment; it was like the best ADHD medicine she could ever take.


End file.
